Sum Drakon-Beslaar es cor Largaaen Alfriim
by Anzhela D Asura
Summary: A Night-time wander means that Arthur sees Merlin summon Kilgharrah but will he cast the Warlock out or accept him in the ever-changing Kingdom? When they are both captured by Morgana, is there any hope for the Uniting of Albion or with Camelot be destroyed? Please, R&R!
1. PROLOGUE

**Title: Sum Drakon-Beslaar es cor Largaaen Alfriim.**

**Characters/pairings: Merlin, Arthur... okay so pretty much all of Camelot at some points.**

**Rating: T **

**Warnings: Spoilers up to Series 5: Arthur's Bane Part I, possible swearing.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own and I never will.**

**Summary: A Night-time wander means that Arthur sees Merlin summon Kilgharrah but will he cast the Warlock out or except him in the ever-changing Kingdom?**

**A/N: I wrote this because I am bored of Arthur being oblivious, so here is my own reveal!fic. Depending on this Saturday's _Merlin _and how many people review (if any), this fic may or may not be continued although this is just a Prologue. Please R&R! :)**

PROLOGUE

A soft breeze swept down the hill, caressing the faces of the young men who lay there. Dressed in chain mail and equipped with deadly weapons, the knights of Camelot slept, the soft snores breaking the eerie silence of the cloaking night.

Amongst them, a man wearing a brown jacket over his thin belted tunic stood, glancing around warily at the frozen scene. He carefully stepped over the King of Camelot and headed for the hill.

Unbeknownst to him, the King was merely feigning sleep, too paranoid to let his guard down with so many of his men at risk. As Merlin stood, Arthur Pendragon let his hand slip over the hilt of his treasured sword, Excalibur, worried that Merlin may have spotted bandits and was attempting to somehow kill or scare them although Arthur was concerned at exactly _how_ his idiotic manservant would defeat a group of armed barbarians.

As Merlin strode towards the silhouetted hill, the King allowed his muscles to slacken, assuming that the man was just finding it hard to sleep on the hill where so many had died. Had Arthur been less experienced, he would feel the same, resting so close to the rotting corpses.

But Merlin never usually had any trouble with death or sickness, after all, he was the physician's ward. Arthur knew that when he'd seen his servant's fearful and shocked face in the cave of the dying druid that something was wrong.

Making his decision, Arthur, rose to his feet quietly so he didn't wake his men and slipped Excalibur's sheath onto his belt.

It was a long walk to the hillside, especially because Arthur had to stop and hide behind a tree every time Merlin glanced back. Hiding was easy with him being an expert hunter and Merlin being... well, not the most observant of folk to be frank. Finally, the man stopped and turned his gaze to the sky. Arthur guessed he was simply marvelling at the beauty of the stars that night, but those thoughts were extinguished when Merlin began to shout, hurling words at the sky:

_O Drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!_

Arthur felt his heart begin to race as his jaw slowly slid open. This must be a joke. Merlin must have seen him coming and decided to pretend to be casting magic. But deep in his heart, Arthur knew that Merlin would never do such a thing, not after sorcery had killed the King's mother and father.

Which left only one option: Merlin must be a sorcerer. Arthur tried to call his servant's name, but the word caught in his throat. He was so shocked, so _betrayed _that he could scarcely even breathe.

The last thing he saw was a huge dark shape descending to the hillside before he fell into a dark abyss.

(-)

Fire and pain haunted Arthur's clouded dreams. Villages were burning, peasants screaming and somewhere, Arthur could hear laughter. A rich but cold and rancour voice filled the King's ears, flooding him with fear and dread. Morgana. He turned from the flames to meet his sister's cool gaze, her icy eyes drilling into his warm brown ones.

Her ebony hair was encircled in a halo of fire that burned brighter then hate, love and fear. Her black dress and robes billowed out behind her, making her look like an avenging angel, cursed to walk the earth once more.

Her eyes flashed gold and he was tossed up against the nearest house like a sack of potatoes. Curling her ruby lips into a savage grin, she raised her hands to make the killing blow- but was stopped. A ripple of silver-blue shot out, knocking Morgana backwards.

Arthur turned to see Merlin , who was wearing black armour that swirled with shadow, his eyes glowing the same gold that Morgana's had.

"No," Arthur heard his sister whisper, "NO!"

"Arthur!" the King in question was shaken out of his hellish dream by Merlin, his stupid, self-sacrificing manservant, his friend- no, not his friend. A sorcerer. A magic-wielder.

Arthur''s father had been very firm in his beliefs that all magic was evil, and had taught his son accordingly. Power could corrupt even the most loyal of men, twisting them into demons. While Arthur did not approve of some of his father's methods in ridding Camelot of magic, he did agree that magic was not to be toyed with. Although he did believe that magic was like a sword, that could be used for both good and evil, it was true that magic corrupted people.

"Arthur?" Merlin repeated anxiously. Finally, Arthur came to his senses and leapt back from his servant.

"Stay away from me, sorcerer." Arthur hissed, trying to put conviction into his voice even when all he wanted to do was sit down somewhere and cry. Crying was not something that warriors and Kings did. They made hard decisions. They were the people who comforted their subjects but did not fall prey to emotion, even in the hardest of times.

Steeling himself, Arthur drew Excalibur and raised it just enough for it to be a threat to Merlin. The look on his servant's face showed pain, grief and betrayal but Arthur would not allow himself to be tricked again. First Morgana, then Aggravaine, now Merlin? He wasn't sure he could deal with anymore betrayals.

"Look, Arthur, its not what it-" Merlin started, taking a step forwards but was halted by Arthur as the man raised his sword to his servant's throat.

"I said stay, Merlin," Arthur growled, but his voice cracked and his hand was shaking.

"I would not do that if I were you, young King," a deep voice emanated from behind and Arthur turned to see a huge dragon, with sinew and muscle rippling through its heavily scaled body.

It was Kilgharrah, the very same dragon that had attacked Camelot, that had claimed the lives of many good men, the _very same dragon_ that Merlin had told Arthur that was dead.

But of course, it had been Merlin supplying the information. Arthur wondered just how many facts he'd altered to protect his secret.

"Why not? Tell me dragon, why should I listen to the creature that killed many good men?" Arthur snarled but to his surprise, the dragon's mouth curled into a slight smile.

"It was merely revenge. You know not how many winters your father kept me locked in an underground dungeon, until the young Warlock freed me."

"Who is this Warlock you speak of?" Arthur shouted, confused.

"Why, you're friend Merlin of course," Kilgharrah stated in a surprised tone.

"That _traitor _is NOT my friend!" the Kind spat, gesturing with Excalibur. Merlin looked down, hiding the sadness in his sky-blue eyes. This had been the reaction that he had always feared. Not being accepted. Being called a traitor by his best friend.

"You do not use your words wisely, King. Merlin has saved you-" The dragon was cut off by Arthur's furious shout.

"ENOUGH! I will NOT listen to the twisted words of a magical creature. Leave now dragon, or I shall destroy you," he warned.

Merlin shot the dragon a look, ordering him to leave telepathically. Obediently, the mighty Kilgharrah gathered his wings and took to the sky, bronze scales shimmering in the first rays of sunlight. Merlin and Arthur glanced at each other, and it was almost like before, until Arthur set his expression and pointed his sword at the warlock who nodded tersely.

Arthur pushed Merlin down the hill, thoughts racing. One thing was for sure, he had been betrayed one to many times and now doubted that he would ever trust anyone again.

When they reached the camp, the sky was a beautiful pale pink, patterned with crimson and blue. Merlin stared up at it, savouring what could be his last dawn. Of course, he could use his magic and escape at any time, but he would have abandoned his destiny.

Sir Elyan ran over to them, mouth already open to ask questions but he promptly shut it when he saw where Arthur's sword was pointed.

"This way," he directed darkly.

Merlin was led into a stone hut where the knights were sharpening their weapons and eating broth. At his entrance, they stopped talking and glanced inquisitively from King to servant.

"Sire, if I may ask, why are you pointing your sword at Merlin?" Sir Leon asked.

"My friends, we have been betrayed. I found Merlin practising the dark art of magic on the hills early this morning, with a dragon, no less. The dragon that killed many of your comrades a few winters ago," Arthur stated gravely. Many gasps met his comment as they all turned to look at the innocent manservant who was so close to the King.

"You have broken the Laws of Camelot by practising magic and committing treason. However," Arthur's voice cracked, "I cannot kill you after all that you have helped me in the past."

Merlin raised his head to meet Arthur's eye.

"I have no choice but to cast you out."

**END OF PROLOGUE**

**So, was it good, bad or meh. Please tell me, and leave constructive criticism but NO FLAMES. I know Arthur is really OOC, but he is PISSED. Anyways, Chapter 1 should be up soonish- if I get enough reviews to feel motivated to continue it. **

**Word count: 1678 (yeah, I know, really short but it was the Prologue. Cut me some slack)**

**R&R **

**HERECOMETHEDRUMS :D**


	2. Chapter I

**A/N: Hi guys, thank you everyone who reviewed, faved or followed SO MUCH for... well, reviewing favouriting and following. Sorry I haven't updated, I had this MAJOR exam and I had to do like a tonne of revision. Here is chapter 1, sorry for any spelling mistakes, English is not my first language but no-one on fanfic is Russian :( Here's the chap:**

CHAPTER I:

_Two weeks later..._

Merlin sprinted through the forest, thick foliage tearing at his skin and clothes. He threw a glance back just long enough to see the pack of rabid wolves that had ambushed him back in his temporary camp before he tripped over a tree root. Scrambling to his feet, he spun to face them, eyes glowing gold as magic poured from his veins to his hands, then his hands to the wolves.

The telekinesis threw them back, but didn't deter them for very long. Merlin could have killed them with ease but he was sick of magic being thought of as evil; by casting dark magic might just prove Arthur's point.

He finally gathered enough strength to cast a sleeping spell heavy enough to drop seven large wolves and straightened as the pack leader fell against the log, snarling sleepily at him.

For a brief moment, he remembered hunting with Arthur and the knights, but turned away from the memories as a throb of guilt, home-sickness and sadness washed over him. He knew that now there was no hope of him and Arthur being the two men that would unite Albion and return magic to the lands.

Arthur in fact had a very good reason to hate magic as it killed both of his parents. What he didn't know, however, how much he relied on Merlin to use magic to save him. The warlock knew that the King wouldn't last long without Merlin to save his royal ass. This was why Merlin did not run to another region where magic was not forbidden, but instead trailed his King, using magic to follow their tracks but always stayed a few days behind.

Merlin knew the laws of being outcast, everyone did. Never set foot in the Allied lands again or face death. If any citizens of Camelot saw him, they would have to kill him or face being outcast themselves.

What was worse about being outcast was that he would never be able to see his mother or Gaius again, _if _he planned on staying an outcast. Which of course he didn't. Arthur was still searching for Sir Gwaine and the rest of his men. Merlin knew that he wouldn't last ten seconds in a battle with Morgana. He would be utterly obliterated and any hope of magic returning would be purged with the King's death.

What Merlin needed to do was regain Arthur's trust so that _he _could destroy Morgana, and they would supposedly live happily ever after. But sadly, Merlin was not naïve enough to believe that this fairy-tale would have a happy ending.

If he wasn't before, Arthur was now firmly set in his belief that magic- _all_ magic- was evil. The only thing that Merlin could do was follow him to the icy realm where the knights had disappeared into and assist him without showing himself. Perhaps then Arthur would reopen his mind and discover that Merlin had only ever really wanted to help.

Motivated by his optimistic thoughts, Merlin grabbed his small satchel that he had been permitted to take and began to navigate the wooded pathway that magic had indicated as the path that Arthur had taken.

(-)

Arthur Pendragon was worried. They had still not found any trace of the missing knights and Arthur was very concerned that they had been taken by Morgana. He would never admit it but he was already deeply regretting banishing Merlin. He was Arthur's best friend and the one person who Arthur thought he could trust.

Turns out that his clumsy, loyal servant had been practising magic all along and was probably working with Morgana. He had disregarded the dream that he had while he was unconscious for many reasons, but most formerly because he couldn't bear to know that he was wrong about Merlin and discover that the boy had been helping him.

Tonight they were taking refuge in a small village on the outskirts of Morgana's territory. The people were timid and afraid of the knights, but allowed them a few small houses to sleep for the night.

Arthur lay flat on the thin straw mattress that had been supplied and wondered how peasants coped like this. It must be an abysmal life; a meagre amount of food, dirty water and working on the farms all day. The King felt a flash of empathy as he realised that what he was experienced was only a fraction of what these people must feel.

His housing in Camelot was of course luxurious, with banquets every evening, a warm bed and most importantly to him, a fresh bath. Arthur was quick to realise that peasant were never properly clean, there was always an impenetrable layer of dirt and mud from constant farm work.

What was worse though was the sadness that ached deep within the King's heart. Caused by the absence of his friend, his equal no matter what their rank was. Merlin was always there to crack a joke in the darkest of moments, to call him a prat and not mind when Arthur tipped a bucket of water over him.

Arthur remembered standing over Merlin coldly as he got together a few belongings, and watching the forest long after his manservant had disappeared into the dawn. He wished he could rewind time and learn more of why Merlin had practised magic, how he had summoned a dragon and above all to find out if Merlin had really betrayed him.

He did not have a chance to even try to rewind time, however, because at that moment the door the door was thrown open and Sir Leon charged in, panting words with unconcealed urgency.

"Sire- problem- villagers- attacking," The knight managed in between gasps.

Arthur immediately threw himself at the door, grabbing Excalibur by the hilt and tucking it into his belt. He wondered how the villagers had attacked without drawing his notice; they must've been extremely subtle.

Sir Leon led the King to the adjourned hut where the knights of Camelot were gathered, talking avidly amongst themselves. Arthur could easily hear the yells of the villagers as they stormed through the huts, waving burning torches and pitchforks.

_So much for subtle_ he thought as he listened to the screaming and the roaring inferno.

"Sire, we cannot fight back in risk of hurting innocent men and women- some out there are deathly afraid. But neither can we stay here or we'll be ashes in minutes," Sir Galahad noted.

"We could run, Sire, but I fear they will tell Morgana of our plans," Sir Lerhan suggested. Arthur doubted that they would reach Morgana's realm before his men, but who knew the reaches of magic.

_Merlin would know what to do,_ Arthur thought sadly, hating his weakness.

"We should talk to them. Find out what they want. I doubt this is Morgana's hand, she would've made them burn the huts in our sleep. This was an act of fear or hate, not Morgana's plan," Arthur considered, quite pleased with his reasoning. The knights looked reluctant, but nodded one by one.

Drawing Excalibur, Arthur approached and pushed open the door with his chosen companions, Sir Elyan and Sir Leon.

"STOP!" he yelled, his powerful voice reaching the ears of all the mob. To his surprise, they halted, uneasiness apparent on some of their faces.

"What is this? Why are you attacking us when before you so kindly extended your hospitality towards us?" he shouted, raising Excalibur. A man of around thirty winters with a rough beard and the clothes of a farmer stepped forward.

"Th' Grea' King Arthur. Appealin' to _our _humani'y," the man spoke with a strong Scottish accent.

He turned to the gathered villagers and let out a hearty laugh. "Ye jus' a wee lad, bough' up with hate agains' anythin' different."

Arthur finally understood. "So this is about magic?"

The man laughed again but it was cold and bone-chilling. He turned to the villagers: "Le' me introduce th' King of Camelot. He'll keep ye family safe by killin' every sorcerer he can ge' his hands on. Did ye forget to mention who ye were when ye came here, wan'ing to be housed? Or did ye expect us te ge' on our knees for ye?"

"We said. When we came here, we told you that we were knights on a trip here," Arthur told him, confused and guilty.

"Knight's, yer! Bu' never a King! Leas' of all the King of Camelot. I 'eard. I 'eard that ye pa died and ye tried to save 'im usin' magic. Ye ban it, bu' when it comes to sommin' _important _like savin' ye pa, ye don't mind bendin' a few rules. Well he deserved it. A killer an' a liar an-"

The man was cut off as Arthur launched himself at him, but was restrained by his comrades, who obviously did not want to anger the villagers more.

The man grinned, exposing rotted brown teeth.

"I wonder 'ow much the Lady Morgana will pay fe' th' Grea' King Arthur."

(-)

_One week later._

The Warlock was faring no better than the King. Well, he wasn't being held ransom by a village that hated him but he was starving.

In the area of the forest that he was in there were few animals that he could hunt and even fewer non-poisonous plants that he knew were safe to eat. Internally, he cursed himself, wishing that he had paid more attention when Gaius shared his knowledge on the plants of Camelot.

Sadly, he didn't know a spell to conjure up food, and he made a mental note to learn one when he returned to Camelot. A small pang hit him when he realised that he wasn't _going _to return to Camelot because he was banished. Forever.

Unfortunately, the lack of food made him weaker and so it was harder to keep within pace of the knights who were fully rejuvenated. The tracks were getting paler and paler and so more and more often, Merlin was following a deer's path instead of a horse's and falling even farther behind.

Giving up on hunting for the day, Merlin just picked some juniper berries from the tree. They were incredibly bitter but at least they were substantial. Grimacing at the taste, he found the tracks and got going again, determinedly placing one foot in front of the other.

He managed to continue for a while, but then finally collapsed to the ground, exhausted. He hadn't had any time to rest since two days ago, when he had fallen behind. His movements sluggish from sleep deprivation, he pushed his satchel into a vague pillow shape and put it under his head.

Dimly, he tried to build up some sort of resistance, knowing that he would be left behind and there would be no hope of saving Arthur, but frankly, his body didn't give a fuck about Arthur and Merlin found himself drifting through the soft grey layers of sleep.

He drifted into a warm dream, where Arthur was chasing him around the fire, throwing his boots at his servant. The warlock allowed a sad smile to creep onto his face, wishing that it was true but knowing it would never happen again.

He was yanked out of dream land by a harsh hand, slapping his face.

"Another wee lad? Looks like a spy from Camelot, don't ye think my friends?" a harsh Scottish voice enquired.

"We'll 'ave te bring 'im along too then."

**Ahahah done. Sorry it was so bad, I couldn't think of how to write what I wanted to write. If that makes sense. Soooo, Arthur and Merlin have both been captured. What a morbid story. Ah well, I love angst. And I put the epic Scottish guy in (sorry I love his accent, I'm part Scottish! But sorry if it's inaccurate). Next chapter should be... around Thursday? English time anyway 'cos I've moved from Russia!**

**Word Count: 2038**

**Please PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW, FOLLOW AND FAVOURITE 'COS THEN I'LL WRITE QUICKER! 3**

**HERECOMETHEDRUMS10 :D**


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